Hair Stories: Who’s Afraid of Some Dirty Hair?

I’ve teamed up with my pals at Gerber Salon in Keyport, NJ to periodically share my thoughts on beauty (and sometimes lack thereof). 

 

For my first post, I thought I’d let you in on my, well, dirty little secret. 

Dirty Hair, Don't Care

Photo Credit: http://www.ducklingsinarow.com/

HAIR STORIES / VOL 1 “WHO’S AFRAID OF DIRTY HAIR”

I’ve got a confession to make: I try to wash my hair as little as possible. It’s true. I am a dirty birdie. I mean, I also just hate showering in general. Like, I hate getting wet. Maybe I was a cat in a previous life? I do like to curl up in the sun but, to date, have refrained from trying to lick myself clean. I think my aversion to showering might be more indicative of my overall laziness when it comes to personal hygiene. My daily skincare and makeup routines are similarly stingy. I do as little as I can.

But my hair is different. I know that because I actually care about how I look. Vanity is my ultimate motivator. I simply don’t really love how my hair looks when it’s just been washed. It’s all kind of fluffy and resembles my goldendoodle’s puppy hair or, maybe, a baby chick. Plus, if I’m not careful when I blow it dry, the ends of my hair want to bend in and create a bit of the mushroom bob and that is NOT the look I am going for. I try to avoid the Mother-of-Four/Lady-of-a-Certain-Age look as much as possible.

I want my hair a little less perfect than that. A little flatter. More piece-y. I don’t even mind when the ends stick out in different directions. Sure, I use some product on Day 1 to try to mimic that just-slept-on effect – like my Oribe hair cream and texturizing spray – but it’s just not the same. Nothing gives you bedhead better than your actual bed.

I was first inspired to back off daily shampooing by my hair colorist, who is not only a bit of a magician with chemicals – she makes my greys disappear and gives my tresses that golden, sun-kissed look – but is insanely cool. She’s like a rock-and-roll Patricia Clarkson and in the almost 20 years I’ve been letting her have her way with my hair color, she’s never let me down.

She’s tiny with super skinny legs and is always wearing something that I totally admire yet could never pull off. I’m just not that edgy. And her long, blonde hair is always kind of pinned up haphazardly unless she’s wearing it loose and it’s wavy and a little messy and definitely cool. She said that one of her tricks for getting that slightly disheveled, very sexy look was that she doesn’t wash it every day. Or even every other day. She encouraged me to do the same and because I am thoroughly unoriginal and a shameless copycat of those I admire, I gave dirty hair a whirl.

When my hair was longer, I could go legit DAYS without washing and my hair would still look fine. In fact, the only thing that would get me into the shower was when the cowlick on the back of my head would become really pronounced after a few days of feeling its oats. That’s when my teenaged daughters would step in and tell me to wash my hair. When I looked like I’d been sleeping on someone’s couch for a few days or was coming down from a serious bender.

Now that my hair is shorter – I’ve been keeping it a couple of inches past my chin – it seems to require more frequent washings. I can get away with only about two or three days of dirty hair before it’s obvious that something is amiss. When my hair starts getting that oily look it used to get when I’d go, like, a day without washing my hair in high school. Another moment in time my hormone fluctuations were off-the-charts. Only now I fear what’s giving my hair a faintly oily sheen is in fact the last of my estrogen. I believe that’s how it’s making its escape from my body. It’s leaking out of my scalp.

Sadly, the only time I can’t really push my hair-washing boundaries is after a blow out. I can make it last about 48 hours and then it starts looking dirty. Like, too dirty. And I know it’s not just me who thinks so. I tried to keep a blow out going for three days over a girls’ weekend with college friends last year until finally one of my pals told me in no uncertain terms I needed to wash my hair. She actually said, “You need to wash your hair.” Having good friends can hurt sometimes.

My girlfriends closer to home always joke about my propensity for dirty hair. They claim they can’t stretch washings out as long as I do, but they get their hair colored just as much as me. Their hair fibers are up to the challenge. “You need to train your scalp,” I tell them, coaching them to try going just one extra day without washing. But they remain dubious.

Recently, one of those girlfriends – the one who, despite having a serious head of hair, is devoted to daily hair washing – emailed our group the link to a recent article that blasts the whole dirty-hair-is-cool trend called “Are You Not Washing Your Hair Enough?”
“Is this an intervention?” I emailed back, and I was assured by all that it wasn’t. But I’m still not too sure. Maybe it’s hard for them to look at me, or maybe I kinda smell?

I still prefer my hair on Day 2 so will need more evidence from loved ones before feeling compelled to wash it daily. And with the warmer weather coming, I’m about to stop drying my hair altogether and adopt a more au natural look. It will free up even more time for things like writing and checking Facebook.
I mean, who wants to be a slave to her hair? Especially when it looks good? There’s plenty of other stuff to tend to, and if you are a woman of a certain age, you know what I’m talking about. Get your bikini waxed. Your nails did. Your face Botoxed.

Your dirty hair will patiently wait its turn.

This post is sponsored by Gerber Salon in Keyport, NJ, where I visit every 5-6 weeks to worship at the altar of Lorraine’s color magic.

 

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Friday Faves: Stuff I’m Obsessed With This Week

It’s the first Friday in August but honestly, by this time of the summer, all the days begin to blend. The only way I really can tell it’s the weekend nowadays is that it’s impossible to park near the beach and my adult children — who’ve “moved out” — are standing in my kitchen eating all the Tostitos in the pantry.

I spent some time this week having a mini reunion with a bunch of women I went with to St. Barths last summer. We gathered in Bay Head, a swanky beach town along the Jersey Shore, where one of the girls rents a house for the summer. We tried to relive the magic of the Caribbean via Jersey with cocktails and yummy food and a little late night dancing for good measure (apologies to the neighbors). It wasn’t quite the Beyonce situation that was St. Barths but it wasn’t shabby, either.

My girlfriend owns a store up in Chatham, NJ that sells tons of cute gifts and accessories so I always show up sans jewelry and just pick from her amazing array of baubles. I borrowed the cutest pair of yellow dangly earrings to jazz up the outfit I had on for dinner and briefly contemplated pocketing them the next day to take home. Always the ethicist, I instead asked her if she could get me a pair from her store and she said they were long gone.

“They sell them here in town!” she told me and explained how to navigate my way to the most darling shop (Carrie Dunham, 92 Bridge Ave.) owned by the woman who designs a handbag I have been lusting after for years. Those bags are kinda pricey for me right now so instead I picked up the cutest little polka-dotty number that’s perfect for holding my phone and lipstick when I go out. I was in a hurry when I stopped in and need to get back to give the place a more thorough once over. And a house of my own in Bay Head.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Other stuff I’m heavily into this week:

  • These socks, which stalked me hard on Facebook for so long I finally had to relent and buy them. I know. I’m a part of the problem. But they’re really cute and soft and, what can I say, I’m a sucker. Plus, bumblebees.
  • I am really not into wearing real bras, which may because of all the pinching and wires or also may be because menopause has caused an expansion in that region. Whatever the case, I continue to be obsessed with these bras and we just got some cute colors in at work and had to buy 2 more. They’re not exactly the most supportive and probably not meant to be worn out to dinner but that’s just how I’m rolling these days.
  • I’m on a bit of a Netflix role and cranked through “Friends From College” in no time and am now working on “Ozark,” even though it got iffy reviews. I mean, anything with Laura Linney in it can’t be all bad. And it’s not.
  • No week is complete without a good cat video.
  • There are some mornings this summer when I wake up and look in the bathroom mirror that I’m surprised a glass of rose isn’t staring back at me. Between bars hawking “froze” and “Rose All Day” memes, it’s, like, everywhere. It stands to reason that they’d start selling the stuff in cans and now, they do. I picked up a 4-pack to bring with me to Bay Head and it was quite the hit. I mean, who doesn’t want to drink their fizzy cocktails out of straws? It’s just plain festive.
  • Finally, last Friday my Lady-cation pals and I went into NYC to see “Come From Away” on Broadway. We had gone on an adventure to Newfoundland last year and — after doing some shots and kissing a cod — have come to think of ourselves as honorary islanders. The show focuses on the days after Sept. 11, after 7,000 people flying that terrible day were diverted to the island and taken in by a small town there. It’s a fascinating bit of history and if you can’t actually get to Newfoundland, probably the next best thing. Plus, it’s trendy.

What are you obsessed with? Please share in the comments below because I’m always looking for a new bee in my proverbial bonnet.

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